


Sammy Girl

by daisy4em



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Samantha, Other, Superwholock, because of breif mention of side characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisy4em/pseuds/daisy4em
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The plan was that it should be a simple kill, one shot- that’s it. But, Samantha, she had been mad, no more than that, she didn’t even know that she had all this anger bundled so tightly around her nerves. And one shot didn’t take the edge off it. Once, twice… four times before the seas calmed and her mind was tranquil and serene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
The plan was that it should be a simple kill, one shot- that’s it. But, Samantha, she had been mad, no more than that, she didn’t even know that she had all this anger bundled so tightly around her nerves. And one shot didn’t take the edge off it. Once, twice… four times before the seas calmed and her mind was tranquil and serene. As if scales pealed from her eyes, she was seeing for the first time where she was.

An empty alley, dim lights, pungent smell. Samantha inhaled threw her nose, taking the spoiled food from the dumpster next to her. Exhaling was more difficult, she spat blood on her hand as she coughed, the tangy bitter after effect on her tongue. Samantha closed her eyes whiling her mind, her body into submission. Finally she had enough cognitive function to realize the pain that she knew she should feel wasn’t there. She sighed, opening her eyes. Tentatively she felt over body. One bruised rib and a busted leg but as always the pain never came. She fumbled for her phone, balancing herself against the brick wall and called the only contact in the phone. 

“Are you hurt?” Came the voice from the phone. 

“I’ve had worse.” There was silence over the line. “Are you still there?” asked Samantha. 

The emptiness continued for a moment, “I’m on my way stay put.”

“Ya, ya. Where would I go anyways?” Samantha wasn’t sure, but there may have been a small sigh or light laugh before line was disconnected. 

In comparison to the alley, Samantha was beautiful. But, by all society’s standards she was average. Pale olive skin, big brown eyes, that seemed ill proportioned to her face. Short spiky blond hair, full mouth, mouse like nose, multi-pierced ears, tattoo that peaked from behind a V-neck t-shirt, and perhaps the only thing she had going for her was her height. Reaching an approximate height of 5’9”. 

A few minutes later the roar of a 1967 Chevy Impala was heard coming down the main street. The car waited at the entrance of the alley. Samantha hobbled her way to the car, dragging the busted leg along when she walked. Reaching the car she stroked it affectionately.

“Hey baby,” she purred at the car.

The high beams shone with intensity in response to the pet name. “Sam, I was worried about you.” The lights blinked as the car spoke. 

“Sorry, Dean. I know you do baby.” 

The car started to drive as soon as Samantha sat down; maneuvering threw the crowded streets, returning her back to the city lights. Dean scanned her, using the triquarter, checking the damage, while she looked for a track on the AC/DC cassette. The humming of the engine and the scanning consumed the emptiness. Samantha lay relaxed as the car drove them… to hospital? Oh crap. 

“Dean? Why are we going to the hospital?” The car remained as before. “Dean answer me.”  
“You’re hurt.” It was a short concise answer. She knew Dean was more worried than normal.

“Dean please be reasonable. I’m going to be fine, just was thrown around more this time.” Even with the music playing the quietness was smothering. “Dean…” 

“Fine, but I’m taking you to Castiel.”

“What on earth for?”

“He is an angel of the Lord,” replied Dean with reassurance.

Samantha laughed, “He is a retired pastor who is a shady doctor now. Not much anything of the Lord, right now is he?” 

“Are you going to let me take you to him?” asked Dean, his patience dwindling. 

“You’re the car, you decide.”

“We are almost at his place anyways. I would be a waste of time if you we didn’t go.”

“Okay boss.”

The engine revved with annoyance as they slipped through the night quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dean drove them into the garage. A sign hung droopily from the gutter; grease, dust, and mold made it so the sign barely said, “Bobby’s Auto Repair Shop”. Even though the original owner, Bobby, had died from alcohol poisoning years ago, Castiel took it over after he retired from his calling. He didn’t use it as a car shop but rather a clinic. This clinic was for people like Samantha, hunters, hired killers, people who couldn’t go to the hospital. Castiel didn’t ask too many questions and that just suited the rest of them. 

About five years ago Castiel had the unfortunate coincidence of running into Samantha. She was on an odd mission. Well more peculiar than usual, since most hunters didn’t run in similar circles. She was to take down the hired kill that was on Castiel case. She tried to get him to safety but the stubborn SOB wanted to stay in his church saying, “God will protect me.” In the end Sam had been shot twice and gotten a broken nose. The hired kill had a smashed skull and Castiel lost his faith. That night he found out that he was quite resourceful when it came to bandaging Sam and he took up classes to become a doctor. It didn’t last long and he quit. But, he had learned enough to fix or heal his frequent visitors. 

When they arrived at Castiel’s place, he was nowhere to be found. Dean shone his high beams, illuminating the garage. Dust hung in the previously dark abyss, rats scampered into the receded darkness. Eventually the house seemed to come alive as lights were switched on. Sam was about to knock on the door, when the tip of the shot gun peered through mail slot. 

“Sate your name, really name please, and what your injury is.” 

“Cass buddy it’s me, Samantha. Dean says I’m injured and need a hospital. I say I’m fine, just a bruised rib and busted leg. I should be …”

Castiel bristled at the pet name but opened the door showing how very disheveled he looked. He must have been asleep for his hair stood up on all ends. 

“Ah, crap. Sorry Cass didn’t mean to wake you.” Castiel just grunted as a welcome and stepped aside letting Samantha walk in. 

The house was old, there was more duct tape holding this old relic together than actually house. It smelled of booze, cigarettes, gun powder, and oil. Books where stacked everywhere, some were Bobby’s, while others were Cass’s religious and medical books. The only place sterile was the basement. Samantha headed toward the door that lead down stairs. 

“Coffee?” asked Castiel from the kitchen. 

“Sure, why not. Maybe with an extra kick too?”

Castiel’s voice tightened , “No Samantha, just Coffee.” His voice was rough and raw. The same tone of voice he used when talking to his old congregation. Samantha had long ago given up trying to get Cass to call her Sam, so she just rolled her eyes. He joined up with her by the door, opening it, and helped her down the stairs, coffee mugs in both of their hands.

Calling the basement a clinic was a bit of stretch. Castiel had used his savings to redo the bunker, which resided under the house. He put up white tiles, added cabinets and filled it with pain killer gauze, needles, and just the essentials to fix breaks and cuts. There was a metal table with a pillow on it that said, “Keep Calm”. She snorted as she hoisted herself onto the table, so much like him to put a pillow like that here. The place smelled like disinfectant and it irritated most people’s noises. 

In the meantime Castiel had put on plastic gloves. “So, where is the pain located?” he asked before turning around. Samantha shot her best bitch please face. “Right, no sensation of pain,” he groveled. “So, uhm I’ll just talk to Dean real quick to see what his scans picked up on that made him think you need a doctor. Though, I have fair idea already.” 

He turned to the cabinets and riffled through the contents. Castiel was average height, only 5’11”. He had brown shaggy hair as well as a stubbly beard that hadn’t been shaved for the last few days. His broad shoulder’s flexed under his thin shirt as he reached for the top shelf. He was rather lean for being as stationary as he was, but all in all he was in amazing health. Finally he found what he was looking for and turned around. He placed the liquid gel capsules in Samantha’s hand. She raised an eye brow. “Oh don’t give me that look. Its pain killers, your body will be thanking me and so should you. Last thing you want is your body throwing a coup d'état over own will.” She took the pills and swallowed them down with coffee. “Try to stay put.” He had meant that as an order but it came out as a plea.  
“But…”

“No buts. Your leg looks bad and I haven’t even looked at your rib. But from your breathing our internal injuries are more than just a bruised rib, Samantha.” 

She sighed, which turned to wheezing, and more fluids outside her body. Castiel’s point had been made. 

Castiel left her on the table and walked over to the garage. The area surrounding the house and where Dean had parked was covered by mountains of crushed cars. Bobby had left them with the house and Castiel still hadn’t gotten around to getting rid of them. When he reached the car he opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat. He hummed as he looked over the scans that Dean had taken. 

“Castiel so nice of you to give me a checkup too,” said Dean saucily, surprising him. 

“Oh well,” He fumbled for his words. “Well, uh, how are you?” 

“Fine,” His voice hummed with amusement. “But I know you Cass. You didn’t come for my examination I just like it when you trip over your words. You’re here for Sammy.” 

“Yes, Dean that is true,” he murmured. “Now, can you tell me how bad the internal injuries are.” His voice actually dipped with concern. “Her cough has me worried.”

“Well from my initial scans she does have fluid in her lungs.”

“Yes I surmised as much. And her leg? Her rib?”

“I would say her rib is bruised and she has dislocated her knee. The fluid in her lungs is the worst of it.” Dean pulled up a 3D image of Samantha body, pin pointing the exact locations of the damages. Castiel rotated the image on the screen. “This liquid is slowly drowning her. Can you do anything about this, Cass?” 

 

Castiel moved the image around, getting better vantage points. “I’ll try, but she should use a real doctor.” 

“Cass you are a real doctor. You may have unconventional ways of doing your work, but you are a doctor.”

“Dean…” 

“Castiel, you’re a doctor and your patient needs you.” he huffed as he opened the car door. “By the way thank you Castiel.”

“Yah, yah whatever,” he said as he left Dean by himself again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way I started another story Called "Army of Bones". It would be awesome if you checked it out.  
> anyways thanks for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Hope you enjoyed <3


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